


Now or Never

by everywintersbreath



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Crash Landing, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Robot Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Serious Injuries, Stranded, deserted island, semi-graphic injury description
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-17 10:43:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16514819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everywintersbreath/pseuds/everywintersbreath
Summary: Junhui, although he may be stranded on a deserted island on a foreign planet and his arm may or may not be about to fall off, is grateful.After all, Mingyu's here too.





	1. The Big Bang

**Author's Note:**

> owo wots dis?
> 
> im finally writing jungyu??????????????????
> 
> also title is unrelated to fic i've just been listening to now or never by sf9 so much and tht song bops so

 

As the highest ranking officer aboard, this is technically Junhui’s fault, even though it was Mingyu flying the ship.

 

There’s not much that command could have asked either of them to do differently though, not when they’d been flying through a “peaceful” zone and several unidentified crafts had decided to shoot them down. Minyu might be surprisingly talented at piloting, but he’s not quite talented enough to dodge hundreds of bullets coming from every direction.

 

Junhui sighs softly, dragging over one of the last crates that they’d managed to salvage from the smoldering wreckage of their craft. At least Mingyu had landed on land, which is a blessing considering the vast expanses of water that stretch out from the island they’ve managed to crash onto. 

 

“Hyung,” Mingyu breathes, way closer to him than Junhui thought. Junhui jumps a bit, startled, clutching at his uniform. “What’s up, Mingyu?”

 

“Sorry for startling you,” the other replies with a big, goofy grin. “I was just going to suggest we gather some of those plants over there with the big leaves to start making a shelter. I’m sure you know as well as I do that command isn’t coming for us anytime soon.”

 

“Right,” Junhui swallows, feeling ashamed. He’s supposed to be the one directing Mingyu here, making him feel less scared, and here he is acting like a fish out of water. At least he’s with Mingyu, Junhui thinks, and not one of the other recruits. Mingyu’s always been sweet around him, positive albeit clumsy. If they hadn’t ended up here, Junhui was thinking of choosing him as his second in command. 

 

Trudging after Mingyu, Junhui examines the sand of the beach that they’re on. The atmosphere of the planet seems similar to Earth, at least according to the last patch of data their AI had given them before sputtering off. He really needs to fix it, especially if they’re going to be here a while. Junhui can already see them running out of clean water.

 

“Look, hyung!” Mingyu exclaims, receiving a small laugh from Junhui, who can’t help but indulge the other’s passion for the tiny-little multicolored crab that he’s encountered. “It’s very pretty, Mingyu, but be careful. We don’t know how creatures here behave.”

 

“Don’t worry about me,” Mingyu says, grinning as he dances off towards the brush once again. Junhui can’t help but feel his spirits lift at the man’s energy. Normally, Junhui tends to be quite the cheerful individual, but there’s something about these circumstances that’s dampening his mood, perhaps understandably. 

 

Mingyu’s already torn off one of the enormous leaves by the time Junhui’s gotten over to him, the thing probably around half his height tall. Junhui joins him in his efforts, bending down to pull from the base of where the leaf is attached to the plant. Too late, he notices a strange little bug perched near the base, fluttering off in a blur of colors as it sprays something at Junhui.

 

Junhui stumbles back, seizing pain going through his arm as he clutches his elbow, gasping. Mingyu darts over, eyes wide, his hands flying to Junhui’s shoulders. “What happened, hyung?”

 

Mingyu’s big hands are enveloping his arm, pulling the ripped fabric of his sleeve away from the wound that the insect must have hit with its venom. “Shit,” Mingyu mumbles, looking panicked. “I’m fine,” Junhui assures, pushing himself up and gently moving Mingyu’s hands off of him, trying to ignore the throbbing pain. “Embarrassed, though. Couldn’t follow my own advice for even five seconds.”

“You should go wash it out in the ocean. It’ll sting, but the salt will help.”

 

“Mm,” Junhui replies, getting up shakily. “Thanks, Mingyu. Keep getting the leaves, I’ll be right back.” Warily, Mingyu watches him go. Even when he’s back on the sand, moving towards the water, Junhui can still feel Mingyu’s eyes on his spine, burning holes in his already tattered uniform. Junhui doesn’t dare look back, kneeling down at the edge of the water to submerge his arm in the thin layer of liquid that comes up with each wave.

 

It does hurt, he notices, but there’s also a sort of relief that comes with it, like some of the toxin (if that’s even what it was) is being taken away by the waves. He swishes his arm back and forth through the water until he feels as if there’s practically no more he can do, getting back up to stumble towards their makeshift camp. He should probably get the cut patched up, and any of Mingyu’s too, in case something like this happens again. Maybe it won’t, and Junhui just has awful luck, but one can never be too careful.

 

He starts digging through one of the crates, finding the only first aid kit that had been aboard just as Mingyu’s footsteps approach once more. “Feel any better?” Mingyu asks, dumping what seems like way too many leaves for him to have been able to comfortably carry onto the sand. 

 

“Yeah,” Junhui nods, although the pain hasn’t really faded. “I was thinking that we should make sure any open wounds are covered up in case something like that happens again.”

 

“Good thinking,” Mingyu chirps, plopping down in front of him and leaning down to rummage through the first aid kit at the same time as Junhui. It’s a bit awkward, having someone so close in his space, but Junhui thinks he doesn’t mind as much because it’s Mingyu. Or maybe he minds more because it’s Mingyu. 

 

“Here, hyung,” Mingyu murmurs. “I’ll do it.”

 

Junhui immediately gives him his arm, trusting the other male. Mingyu’s proven himself very capable at many things, especially survival tasks or household ones. That’s another benefit of being stranded with Mingyu, he supposes as Mingyu delicately wraps his forearm with the bandages. He’ll get to taste the other’s cooking every day. 

 

“Okay,” Mingyu says cheerfully, tying the end of the bandages into a little bow. It’s so cute, and so Mingyu, that Junhui can’t help but grin. “Thanks again,” he giggles. “Now what about you?”

 

Mingyu hurries to look himself over, finding only one small abrasion on his calf, which takes Junhui only a few moments to cover up. Mingyu’s staring at him when he looks back up, which makes Junhui tilt his head curiously. Mingyu looks away first, staring at the pile of leaves. “We should start building a shelter,” he says awkwardly. Junhui nods, grabbing one of the big leaves.

 

“What do you want me to do?”

 

-

 

By the time they finish building the little tent, the sun has almost set, a brilliant star that’s almost certainly not the same one that illuminates Earth. Junhui sits beside Mingyu at their little fire, the only sound the lapping of the waves against the shore and the crackling of the flames under Mingyu’s pot. He’s been tinkering with the ship’s salvaged AI unit since Mingyu started cooking, and Junhui’s pretty sure he’s almost got it working again. 

 

He squints, screwing in one of the final small screws that attaches the portion of its circuitry that had been damaged in the crash. It’s then that the little hunk of metal whirs in his hands, sparking for a second before stopping. Junhui frowns, wondering if it’s died again until the machine speaks. 

 

“Officer Wen Junhui, good evening,” the machine comments robotically, earning an amazed look from Mingyu. “Wow, you really fixed it! Wait, it feels kind of weird just calling it that. Can I give it a name?”

 

“My name is Jihoon,” the machine replies monotonously. “You may refer to me with male pronouns, Officer-In-Training Kim Mingyu.” Mingyu’s eyes widen even farther, and Junhui can’t help but feel amused at how excited he seems over such a simple thing. He’d heard Jihoon speak before on their test flights, but apparently, this is somehow different. “Just call me Mingyu!” Mingyu tells Jihoon, stirring his pot.

 

“If you wish, Mingyu.”

 

Junhui scratches his forearm, wincing, moving to pick up Jihoon again. “Jihoon,” he starts. “Can you run a search for pure water on this island?”

 

“Yes, Officer Wen Junhui,” Jihoon replies immediately. “I will begin immediately after finishing my remaining restart protocols. I will shut off vocal commands now to speed up the process. Please inquire as to the results tomorrow morning.”

 

Junhui nods, picking Jihoon up and lightly tossing him just under the cover of their little leaf tent. Mingyu keeps looking over, finally removing the pot from its place over the fire and placing it on the sand between them. “How long will it take him?” 

 

“Probably a few hours,” Junhui replies, taking the ladle that Mingyu offers him. “He’s an older model, so any complex procedures will take him longer. It’ll be especially lengthy this time because he doesn’t have any preexisting information on this island.”

 

“Wow,” Mingyu replies thoughtfully, beginning to eat the stew with his own ladle. “You know a lot.”   
  


“I don’t know about that,” Junhui laughs shyly, trying to hide his embarrassment by swallowing a mouthful of too-hot stew. “Minghao is better at this kind of thing than me.”

 

“Just because he’s better doesn’t mean you aren’t good,” Mingyu responds, eyes twinkling. Junhui can’t help but look down. “Thanks,” he mumbles, and they eat the rest of the stew in silence. It’s perhaps a bit strange, but the food is good, and being with Mingyu is comfortable, so Junhui lets himself relax despite the ache that still burns in his arm. 

 

Mingyu shifts, finally, lifting the pot. “We should try to sleep,” he says, receiving a nod of agreement from Junhui, who can’t help but yawn. “Yeah. We can forage tomorrow.”

 

Mingyu goes to wash the pot out with some of the ocean water, leaving Junhui to tuck himself into one side of the sloppy leaf tent, face against one of the branches they’ve used to keep it structurally intact. 

 

When Mingyu comes back, he too slides into the cramped space, body pressing against Junhui’s, all warm and big and reassuring. “G’night, hyung,” Mingyu says quietly, almost likes he’s worried that he’s doing something wrong.

 

“Goodnight, Mingyu,” Junhui replies softly. “Sweet dreams.”

 

-

 

Untangling himself from Mingyu in the morning is a bit awkward, especially when the other wakes up and stares at him.

 

Junhui just laughs nervously, slithering his way out of the fragile tent and gripping Jihoon with one arm. His arm really, really hurts, but he isn’t going to tell Mingyu that. It’ll only make the other worry, and that’s not what he wants at all. 

 

Luckily, the other doesn’t seem to notice his winces, blearily stumbling out to unpack some rock-hard biscuits for their breakfast. Junhui takes the one he’s offered, nibbling on the edge as he picks Jihoon back up with his other hand.

 

“Jihoon, are you listening?”

 

“Officer Wen Junhui, good morning. I have completed the analysis requested of me. There is a freshwater lake nearby, as well as several sources of groundwater and consumable tree sap.”

 

Junhui sighs in relief, smiling over at Mingyu. “That’s good news. Thank you, Jihoon.” The machine makes a beeping noise, starting to speak again. “Officer Wen Junhui, are you unwell?”

 

“No, Jihoon, I’m perfectly fine,” he says through gritted teeth, trying to glare at the machine despite knowing it won’t sense it. Luckily, Mingyu’s decided to wander around the perimeters of their little camp and didn’t seem to hear the interaction. “Please do not conduct anymore checks on my health unless I specifically ask for one,” Junhui begs, glancing around. “Continue to check up on Mingyu’s.”

 

Jihoon beeps again. “Command registered. I will do as you ask, granted that you seem to be maintaining your own health fairly well.” Junhui sighs in relief, settling back as he finishes the last of his little biscuit. “Thank you, Jihoon. Can you lead us to the water?”

 

-

 

The forests on the island, Junhui quickly finds out, are quite interesting from a biological standpoint.

 

The flowers are enormous and particularly vibrant, the animals they encounter strange and distorted versions of familiar ones. Near the lake at one point, they see what looks like a cross between a jaguar and an alligator, its enormous maw looking ridiculous on the feline body. Junhui almost screams when he notices it, but the thing seems to have no interest in them, lazily glancing back up at the sky after they pass. 

 

Mingyu is more relaxed than him, which Junhui likes to internally attribute to his extra two inches of height. Must give him more confidence or something. 

 

In general, it seems like most of the organisms in the jungle are harmless, save for the bug that had attacked Junhui the first day. Perhaps even that could have been a coincidence, as it may have felt threatened when Junhui’s hand entered its personal space.

 

Well, Junhui thinks. There are certainly worse places to be stranded.

 

-

 

On the fourth evening, he gathers the courage to check his wound.

 

He tells Mingyu that he’s going to go take a bath, sneaking Jihoon along with him and curling up against the roots of a particularly unique tree. “Jihoon,” he murmurs. “Run a health diagnostic, please.”

 

It’s easy to unwrap the bandages, less easy as Junhui starts to notice the way his skin is blackened underneath, the way his entire forearm is purpling and swollen. He grimaces, running a finger over the skin and immediately drawing it back when he feels just how painful it is. 

 

“I found an unknown toxin in your bloodstream,” Jihoon says. “It seems to be causing severe damage to one of your limbs. I have no information on this toxin in my database.”

 

“Shit,” Junhui mutters. “Am I gonna die?”

 

“I cannot say,” Jihoon replies. “At this point, it does not even seem like the amputation of your arm would save you. You will need to find some sort of antidote if one exists.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> conversations are had

Carefully, Junhui lowers his body into the crystalline spring they had found the other day, letting the water run over his injury. It dulls the ache a little, but Junhui can still feel the sensation throbbing under (or over, at this point he can’t tell) his skin. 

“Jihoon,” he mumbles, scratching at the blackened exterior of the wound. “Can you run a search for the toxin on this island?”

“I am .73% of the way through the requested process already,” the robot says from the shore. Junhui sighs, tilting his head to look up at the trees above them. “Thanks,” he manages, feeling strangely calm in the warm water. He supposes he shouldn’t spend too much time worrying about it.

For a few minutes, it’s silent, save for the chirping of the birds high overhead in the trees. Junhui allows himself to relax until Jihoon speaks again. “Officer Wen Junhui, Mingyu is coming this way.”

“What?” Junhui squeaks, standing up with a loud splash and stumbling for his clothing. This is bad. Mingyu can’t see his arm. Or any of him, really, without clothes. Junhui will be embarrassed for the rest of his life. 

He grabs the jacket of his uniform from where it rests on a nearby rock, panicking when he hears footsteps closeby. Junhui holds it protectively in front of his more intimate areas, keeping his injured arm hidden behind the jacket as Mingyu comes out from the bushes, looking worried.

Mingyu stops then, staring at him, his face going cherry red and eyes widening. “Sorry,” he stumbles out. “You were gone for a long time and I was getting worried.”

Junhui can’t help but wonder why he hadn’t called out beforehand, but sighs, self-consciously shifting. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Thanks for checking on me, though.”

“Y-Yeah,” Mingyu says, big puppy eyes still focused absently on Junhui’s chest as if he’s forgotten that it’s rude to stare. Junhui coughs, feeling his own cheeks burn into his consciousness. “Would you mind turning around, o-or going behind a tree or something so I can change?”

“Oh! Yeah, of course!” Mingyu exclaims, turning on his heel and disappearing a few feet into the brush. He seems just as embarrassed as Junhui, but the latter feels as if he’ll collapse from the sensation at any moment. Hesitantly, he drops the jacket, slipping on his pants as quickly as he can and then lifting it back up again.

Some of the buttons are missing, which Junhui can’t understand since they’d all been there before his bath and he doesn’t see them on the ground anywhere. “Jihoon?” He asks tentatively. “Did something happen to my jacket?”

“I am unsure, Officer Wen Junhui. I apologize for not sensing anything, but it is likely that one of the local creatures stole your buttons because of their shiny nature. If you’d like, I can search for them after finishing my current-”

“It’s fine, Jihoon,” Junhui manages to say, disgruntledly slipping his jacket back on and buttoning up the few that remain. Things just really aren’t going his way today. He makes sure to tug the sleeve that covers his injured arm down further. It’ll have to do until he replaces the bandages. 

“Mingyu, you can come back,” Junhui says softly, bending over to pick up Jihoon and wandering in the other man’s direction. Mingyu pops up from behind a bush, turning around, his face still stingingly red. “I’m really sorry, again,” Mingyu blurts.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Junhui reassures, reaching out to pat his shoulder with his good arm. “We should get back to the camp before it gets really dark.”

“Yeah,” Mingyu says, awkward. “Yeah, you’re right.”

If Junhui’s sleeves are way too unbalanced in comparison to each other and parts of Junhui’s chest stick out from beneath his jacket, Mingyu doesn’t say anything. 

 

-

 

“Officer Wen Junhui,” Jihoon says, loud and close to his ear, where Junhui had unwisely left him the night before.

His hands fly up, swatting at the little robot blindly before realizing what he’s doing and apologetically picking Jihoon up, sliding out from the tent. Mingyu’s woken up before him, evident from both the lack of his gangly body in the tent and the smell of food in the air. “What’s up, Jihoon?” Junhui murmurs, still a bit groggy.

“In searching for the toxin, I have discovered a large hollow chamber near the center of the island, largely underground. It appears to be created by some sort of creature, definitely unnatural.”

“A hollow chamber?” Mingyu asks, startling Junhui, whose heart feels like it flutters right out of the holes in his jacket. Luckily, Mingyu doesn’t seem curious about the mentioned toxin. “Yes,” Jihoon responds. “It would be wise for the two of you to look into it.”

“Alright,” Mingyu replies cheerfully. “But after breakfast, and only if it’s safe.”

“How responsible,” Junhui teases lightly, leaning his chin into his hands as he looks out at the waves. Mingyu laughs in response, a sort of weirdly detached noise, that doesn’t sound right from his mouth. Junhui frowns pensively, turning to look at him. “Is something wrong?”

Mingyu shrugs, not meeting his gaze. “Not really. I just wish that-” he stops.

“You know what, nevermind.”

“Hm?” Junhui asks. “You can tell me.” Mingyu shakes his head, chewing on the inside of his lip. Junhui’s never seen him in this kind of mood, and it seems to have come out of nowhere. “It’s not important.”

“If it’s bothering you, it’s important.”

“Well,” Mingyu says after a long pause. “You know, back at the academy, I would watch you sometimes. You would always help people out. You were probably the nicest officer in that whole hellhole, much kinder than the ones who would beat us with sticks or scream at us until their voices went hoarse. I was almost happy when we got stranded here. I thought that I’d never have to go back, that I was here with you, who I’ve always admired, so we could be happy. But now, I’m upset.”

“Why?” Junhui asks very softly, brain short-circuiting. His mind is rapidly bouncing back and forth from Mingyu’s description of the abuse he’d faced from the other officers and his used of the phrase ‘admired’. “I-I never knew that the others treated you like that, I’m so sorry.”

Ignoring his second statement, Mingyu looks up to meet his eyes, serious gaze far more piercing than Junhui could ever be prepared for. Junhui’s only ever seen him with that goofy smile. “Why won’t you let me help you?”

Junhui blanches. “What do you mean?” He asks quietly.

“You’re clearly suffering,” Mingyu replies, voice dull. “I’ve known that your arm was getting worse, but I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. It just bothers me, that, I don’t know. It feels like you don’t trust me. All my life people have passed me off as an empty shell, and I’ve started to believe it. I’m Mingyu, stupid and clumsy, only good for making people laugh by ruining my own image, not worthy of any sort of responsibility.”

“W-What?” Junhui asks, straightening up. “Mingyu, none of that is true! I mean, yeah, my arm is getting worse, but the only reason I didn’t tell you was that I didn’t want you to worry. I didn’t want you to have to deal with the consequences of something that’s a result of my own mistakes. You’re incredibly intelligent and resourceful, and I love hanging around you. Without you here, I’d probably have died by now. I know it’s hard to love yourself, but you really are special, Mingyu.”

Jihoon chirps from nearby, as if in agreement, and Mingyu stares down at the pot he’s stirring pensively. “Thanks,” he says finally, allowing some part of Junhui’s brain to settle back down. “I just want to help you out. I want to make it hurt less.”

“That’s sweet,” Junhui says quietly. “I don’t think there’s any way to cure it, but the place Jihoon brought up is probably a good place to start looking.”

“Let me see,” Mingyu says, standing up abruptly, abandoning his cooking. Junhui clutches at his arm reflexively, grimacing. “It’s gross. I don’t think you really want to look.”

“Let. Me. See,” Mingyu practically growls, kneeling beside Junhui and taking the arm that’s weakly thrust in his direction between his hands. He sticks out his knee, resting Junhui’s arm upon it while he begins to gently unravel the bandages. Junhui swallows, truly blindsided by this new side of Mingyu. He has no idea where it’s been this whole time. 

Mingyu examines the wound with an eerie sort of intensity, not recoiling even when he reaches the most rotten portions of Junhui’s arm. “Does this hurt?” He asks, prodding lightly at the skin near the edge. Junhui yanks his arm back, wincing, a tea forming in the bottom of his eye from the stabbing sensation. “Sorry,” Mingyu murmurs, carefully pulling it back.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says, and then he’s planting a kiss on Junhui’s palm. 

This time, Junhui's brain really short circuits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i extended it to more chapters but I feel like it fits better that way
> 
> uwu i hope u like


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW::: mentions of throwing up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   
> there's not much detail but there are three (i think ) mentions so if that bothers u stay safe and dont read!!!!!!!!!!

The noise that Junhui makes is not a very pretty one, a squeaking rasp from the back of his throat that sends his hand trembling away from Mingyu’s lips.

Mingyu looks up at him, pupils dark and wide. “They say a kiss heals wounds, hyung.” 

Flustered, Junhui nods. Of course. Mingyu was just being kind. Junhui’s taking things too seriously, as usual. He smiles weakly. “Thanks, Mingyu. I should probably rebandage it.”

“No problem,” Mingyu replies, and then he leans closer, way too close to Junhui’s face for it to be a coincidence. Junhui tries not to sweat nervously, going cross-eyed when Mingyu kisses him for real this time. Oh. So not just a kindness thing then? Junhui’s so confused his head might burst.

“Mingyu,” he mumbles, breaking away. “Mingyu, what…?”

“Sorry, hyung,” Mingyu replies, seeming almost giddy all of the sudden. “You look really pretty.” Junhui laughs, covering his mouth with his non-injured hand. “Are you sure about that? Pretty sure we’re both coated in at least three layers of sand by now.”

“There are also grains of sand around the pearl in an oyster,” Mingyu says wisely, a quote that Junhui thinks might be profound if he spent more time pondering it. Mingyu has moved back to his cooking, seeming content with not discussing the development between them at all. Junhui is most certainly NOT happy that they don’t seem to be talking about it, but he supposes he’s never been the assertive type. “I’m more like a crab than a pearl Junhui says. “I’ll pinch you if you don’t watch out.”

Mingyu just laughs, removing his pot from the campfire. “Sure you will, hyung. Why don’t you bandage your arm back up? I’ll cool this off for you.”

Junhui’s lips purse. He feels like he’s being patronized, but then again it’s Mingyu, so who knows? “Fine,” he acquiesces. Shuffling over to the side, he tenderly begins to redress the wound, grimacing at how disgusting it has become in such a short time. He’s already feeling worse overall as if the poison has started to interfere with his central systems. 

It takes a few minutes, during which Junhui can’t help but remember the press of Mingyu’s lips against his own. Does Mingyu like him? Does he like Mingyu? How long have they even known each other? Does this make any sense?

“It’ll get cold,” Mingyu calls, making Junhui shake himself out of his reverie. He scuttles over, wrapping the final bandage into a half-assed knot near his bicep. Junhui is quick to shovel some into his mouth, the warm liquid tasting surprisingly delightful. “What is this?” He asks, taking another sip, and then covering his mouth. 

“It’s crab soup, hyung,” Mingyu replies, looking up. “I caught some while you were asleep. Why? Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Junhui replies, coughing. “I just don’t feel very good. I don’t think I can eat very much right now.” He breathes deeply, steadying himself. The second the first spoonful had reached his stomach, Junhui had immediately needed to resist the urge to vomit. Mingyu stares at him, eyes widening slightly. “Do you want some water?”

Junhui shakes his head, holding his knees. That’ll just make it worse. “I’m fine,” he replies. “I’m going to take Jihoon and try to find that room he was talking about. Walking might make it better.”

“Wait for me,” Mingyu instructs. “If you don’t feel well, it’s really not a good idea to go off on your own. And no, Jihoon doesn’t count.” 

The robot makes a noise, and Junhui stands abruptly, stumbling away before he can hear the rest of Jihoon’s phrase. Mingyu yells out, catching up to him within moments, hands on Junhui’s waist. “Where are you going?”

Junhui turns his head to meet his eyes, looking absolutely miserable, one hand still clutched over his mouth. Mingyu seems to get it then, eyes turning more tender as he lets go. Junhui falls down too his knees, bringing his head as close to the sand as he can when he starts to retch. 

“Don’t look,” he murmurs scratchily after most of it has passed, refusing to raise his head. Mingyu rubs his back carefully, patting at his hair. “It’s okay. Nothing I haven’t seen before. Don’t feel bad.”

“It’s gross,” Junhui protests. “It’s gross, don’t-”

“Hyung,” Mingyu says gently, exasperated. “Junhui hyung, it’s fine. I used to babysit little kids, okay? This is seriously nothing. I’m more worried about you. You’ll need to drink some water.”

Very reluctantly, Junhui raises his head, leaning his body to cover the mess as he stumbles up. “I don’t think I can even drink,” he mumbles. “I think I’ll just,” he gestures, “again.”

“Why don’t you at least go rinse your mouth out with salt water?” Mingyu suggests, pitying, one hand still on the small of Junhui’s back. “You can rest for awhile, and whenever you feel better, we’ll go.”

“Okay,” Junhui replies in a small voice, ears red from embarrassment and anger at himself. 

-

Jihoon leads them to a clearing, deeper into the woods than they’ve ventured before. Mingyu sticks to Junhui’s side the whole time, chattering away to distract the older from the earlier events. It’s sweet, and Mingyu’s warm hand in his is certainly a distraction, but Junhui still can’t help but worry.

“-Gyu,” he starts, nervous. “I’m not going to have much time left if I can’t hold down any fluids.”

“You’ll be fine,” Mingyu reassures, squeezing his fingers. “We’ll move the camp in here if we need to, okay? It’s cooler, and you won’t have to move as much, so you won’t sweat as much.”

“Right ahead is part of the hollow space I can sense,” Jihoon chirps from Mingyu’s jacket pocket. “And if it comes to it, I can research IV technology in order to supply you with nutrients for a brief amount of time,” Jihoon continues. “Of course, I hope that things do not get that bad, as such a situation would not be pleasant for you.”

“Yeah,” Junhui replies softly. “Thanks, though.”

“I see something,” Mingyu says then, pointing. Junhui follows his finger, noticing what looks like stone poking up from over the brush. He squints, pulled closer by Mingyu until they’re within reach of it. It appears to be a wall of some sort. 

Carefully, Mingyu lets go of Junhui’s hand, going to brush aside the plants that cover the lower half of it. “It looks like a door,” he says. “But then what’s this?”

There are several rings on the “door” which look like they move, and a small hole in the center of them. “From analyzing the structure of the wall before us, I can confirm that what you are looking at is a form of a locking mechanism,” Jihoon replies calculatingly. “Scanning around, this appears to be the sole way of entering the chamber.”

“Any ideas on how to actually open it?”

Jihoon is silent for several moments, during which Junhui holds onto hope that he might find something. “I can find only minimal clues within the structure of the wall that hint to the correct positioning of the rings. If you would like, I could run a scan for an object fitting the shape in the center, but such a procedure would take quite a long time as I would have to file every minute object on this island by surface shape and sort them.”

“How long?” Junhui asks hoarsely. Jihoon is quiet for a moment. “I cannot say exactly. Perhaps around eighteen hours?”

“That’s better than I thought,” Junhui says, relaxing. “We can try to figure out the rings in the meantime. Maybe it’ll be somewhere nearby anyway.”

“During the procedure, I will be unable to otherwise assist you due to my status as an outdated model. If you are sure you would like me to go through with it, please command me, Officer Wen Junhui. “

“Begin the procedure,” Junhui says, looking up at the sun in the sky, visible only partially through the trees. Jihoon beeps, and Mingyu tosses him back to Junhui, who clumsily catches him, laying him down on the grass and sitting beside him, staring up at the rings. 

His head is throbbing, which is making it rather hard to think. Junhui swallows, steeling himself. It’ll only get worse from now on if he can’t eat or drink. He needs to stay positive.

“Well,” Mingyu says, staring at the rings. “I really wish Wonwoo were here. He’d be much better at this sort of thing than me.”

Junhui scans his memory, remembering the bespectacled boy around his own age who had entered with Mingyu’s class of trainees. “I dunno,” Junhui replies. “I don’t think there’s anyone I’d rather be stuck on a deserted island with than you.”

 

If Mingyu’s ears go red, Junhui doesn’t comment.

-

It’s getting late, and they’ve come up with only a few ideas, all scattered musings based on the dots around the edges of the rings. 

“It’s okay.”

Junhui is the one to reassure Mingyu this time, who appears extremely frustrated, sitting beside him on the grass. “We’ll get it. Don’t worry.”

Mingyu exhales. “Yeah. You’re right, of course.”

Junhui reaches over, grabbing his hand, headache much worse now that he hasn’t drank anything all day. His stomach is still turning, indicating that he’ll probably have another dry-heaving session soon. “Look,” Junhui whispers. “You can see the stars, kinda. They’re starting to come out.”

Mingyu’s hand goes limp in his, and Junhui looks over curiously, wondering if he fell asleep or something. Instead, Mingyu is staring at the door again, his eyes flicking between it and the small patches of sky that they can see.

Mingyu gets up then, letting go of Junhui’s hand and scampering up the small hill in front of them that the wall is mounted in. Junhui watches him curiously, observing as Mingyu gazes up at the night sky.

“It’s the stars,” Mingyu mutters. “The stars! It’s the stars, Junhui!”

His voice gets higher in volume until he’s practically shouting, jumping back down and then staring at the rings again. “We must have to line up the constellations. I never even thought about it because they look so different from the ones back at home.”

“Wow,” Junhui says, blinking. “Maybe the thing in the center is a clue as to how we do it?” 

“Yeah,” Mingyu says. “It’s possible. I’ll keep looking at it, but you should try to get some sleep. We can’t know for sure until Jihoon reports back anyway.”

“Exactly,” Junhui replies. “So you sleep too.”

Mingyu laughs softly, glancing back at him. Something about the expression on Junhui’s face must sway him, because he comes over, laying down at Junhui’s side. Very swiftly, he places a peck on Junhui’s forehead, grinning. “Alright, captain.”

 

Junhui sniffs cutely, letting his weary eyelids flutter shut.

-

“Junhui.”

 

“Junhui!”

“JUNHUI!”

His eyes fly open, chest rising and falling rapidly, his breaths choked and heavy. It feels like there’s something stuck in his throat, like there’s something stuck in his very heart, stopping him from properly functioning. 

Mingyu’s face comes into focus over his own, handsome face rippling like a reflection in a pond. “Huh?” Junhui asks intelligently, wincing at the sound of his own voice. Mingyu gently caresses the side of his face, frowning. “Jihoon found the key.”

“Okay,” Junhui responds, feeling like that’s not the whole story. There’s no way Mingyu would have woken him up so roughly if that was the only reason for doing so, but he feels too weak to bother probing for more information. 

It’s pretty dark out, but Junhui can’t remember waking up at all during the actual day. He must have slept through it. “The key was hidden with a drawing,” Mingyu tells Junhui. “We have to wait until the shadow goes a certain way and then align the rings with the positioning of the stars from this point.”

Junhui looks around, staring. “Okay,” he says again, lips numb. 

“It’s just about time,” Mingyu says. “Get ready.”

Junhui settles back against the flattened leaves that he’s been laying on for so long, trying not to let his eyes close as he hears Jihoon and Mingyu discussing the movement of the rings. It’s taking so long that Junhui almost does fall asleep, when suddenly there’s a loud crunching sound. 

He pushes himself upwards, grinding his teeth through the pain as the door comes curling open, the circles of rock spinning away from each other to create an opening. Mingyu offers him a hand, pulling Junhui up and lending him most of his back when Junhui ends up not being able to walk very well on his own.

They slowly descend down the carved stairs into the room, Mingyu’s hand that isn’t stabilizing Junhui working hard to shine light around with a measly torch. There are carvings all over the wall, drawings and what Junhui thinks might be hieroglyphics or letters of some sort. It’s clear that some sort of intelligent life had to have lived here at a point.

“Careful,” Mingyu murmurs, helping Junhui off the final step onto the flat ground. Junhui peers into the darkness around them, frowning. The torchlight isn’t helping him see much.

“Master Mingyu,” Jihoon says suddenly. “There is a series of pathways containing oil starting to your left that serve as a system of lighting. Touch the torch to the oil.”

Mingyu does as he recommends, nearly stumbling back when the fire races around the room, lighting up the entire space. “Wow,” Junhui whispers, staring around. The whole room appears to be coated in gold, or some sort of replica. It’s impressive, especially with the light from the flames dancing across the walls. 

Slowly, they start forward toward the center of it, where the only object in the massive room appears to be located. It’s a coffin, Junhui thinks, and then he shudders a bit. Mingyu’s hand grips his shoulder tighter, calming. 

They approach, and it’s then that Junhui sees the carvings that line the lid of the coffin. His heart stumbles in its beating, and he elbows Mingyu. Mingyu stops, staring.

The lid is absolutely covered in carvings of people dying to much larger versions of the bug that had sprayed Junhui earlier in the week, children and adults alike, the tiny figures running about, their limbs scratched out with black charcoal as if they’ve been infected. 

Junhui shares a frightened glance with Mingyu, and then Mingyu starts to lift the lid, very slowly.

It partially slides off, revealing the feet of a mummy, very intricately wrapped. Mingyu takes a deep breath, the sound filling the silence, and pushes the rest of the lid off. It clatters to the floor with a loud crash.

The mummy is presented very neatly, so elaborate in its encasings that Junhui thinks it must have been someone important when it was living. Clutched in its hands is a small vial, capped neatly, held up to its lips as if it had been about to drink.

“Officer Wen Junhui, I would recommend that you drink some of the liquid in that bottle,” Jihoon says. “And then put it back.”

 

“Why put it back?” Mingyu asks, prying the bottle out and uncapping it, offering the drink to Junhui, whose fingers tremble around the neck of it. He drinks a small amount, lowering it once again. “I’m not capable of superstition,” Jihoon says. “As I am a machine. But this feels quite ominous, would you not agree? We should not take any more than we need.”

“Yeah,” Junhui agrees, pressing the bottle back down into the mummy’s hands. It’s not instantly curing him or anything like that, but he at least doesn’t feel like he’s going to throw it up. “Thank you,” he whispers to the mummy. “I don’t know what happened here, but I’m sorry for you and your people. Thank you for saving me.”

The mummy doesn’t do anything, which is to be expected, Junhui supposes. “Let’s cover it back up,” he mumbles, standing back so Mingyu can lift the tablet with both his arms. It’s heavy, evident from the straining in Mingyu’s arms, but he does it nonetheless, coming back to offer a limb to Junhui. “I don’t feel like we should stay down here,” Junhui mumbles. 

“Okay,” Mingyu replies. “Let’s go back to the surface, hyung.”

Mingyu’s arm on his back is warm, helping him stumble up the last few steps. Junhui breathes heavily, glancing over his shoulder just before they exit. 

The carvings on the walls are glowing. 

He lets out a little shout, tripping forward. Mingyu hurries after him, not looking for the source of his distress. Before Junhui can point them out, the door slams shut behind them, all the parts sliding into each other simultaneously. 

He blinks, staring at the grass with bewilderment. Mingyu pats his back comfortingly, not seeming to understand the reason for his behavior. They’re both still on the ground, Mingyu’s arms around Junhui, minutes later when the rumble of an engine approaches, and an all too familiar voice speaks up. 

“So this is where you two were hiding.”

Minghao’s timing sure is impeccable. 

-

The moment they get back to the academy, Mingyu and Junhui are split up. Minghao drags Junhui off to the medbay, finding him the most exclusive room, tucked into a corner, hidden to the world.

He spends several days there, wires sticking out of every part of his body, not seeing Mingyu once. His time spent awake is usually spent in a fit of blurry images and Minghao talking to one of his annoying friends, discussing “cool dance moves” that Junhui wishes he could be ten miles away from.

“I want Mingyu,” he always says, but Mingyu never comes. It’s not until eight days later, when the nurse fits Junhui’s arm with a fancy glove, that Mingyu appears, standing in the doorway with a fresh haircut and a dress shirt, looking at Junhui with haunted eyes.

“Hi,” Junhui says cheerfully. “Glad to see you. Look, they gave me this super cool glove. Isn’t it nice?”

Mingyu comes closer, stopping beside his bed, not answering. “Do you hate me?”

Blinking, Junhui frowns. “Why would I hate you?”

“I dunno. I feel like I took advantage of your injury. I kissed you without asking, and I was all pushy, and I-”

“Mingyu,” Junhui starts. “Mingyu I like you a lot, okay? I liked when you kissed me. If anything, I was more mad that you didn’t come visit me sooner.”

Eyes wide, a smile starts to blossom on Mingyu’s face. “Really?”

“Really. So get over here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> owo

**Author's Note:**

> wowza so uh
> 
> there's two ways this could go:  
> 1\. angs t  
> 2\. yay happy boys
> 
> im sure you can imagine how the first ending could be acheived  
> also i might write smut next chapter im debating it in my head iddddddkkkkkkkk
> 
> lmk what u think i lov u all


End file.
